Reflection
by Haunted by Shadows
Summary: "So I shut away the part of me that wants -needs- to be myself and stand tall." Sometimes, people aren't who you make them out to be. Who are they, really? Take a closer look in that mirror, and who do you see, staring back at the person you thought you knew already?
1. Locked

**This is a series of one-shots about a deeper side of some of our characters. I may or may not update frequently, it depends on when I finish chapters or have inspiration. You won't be left hanging though **

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to meet me, _Percy Jackson_?

No, not the hero you imagine now. Not the invincible, care free, _fear _free person who defeats a Kindly One and Minotaur without training, or defeats Lord Ares at the age of 12, or even defeats 4 Titans. No, not _him_. I said _me_. Me, the kid who gets hurt and scared and that too of a _math test_. The kid who has no friends and can't read english and can't do everything. The kid thats _normal_.

Of course you haven't. You're shocked at realizing that I even have a side like that.

But you should be. I don't show this side of me very often. How can I, when every time I see you, you need a hero? So I give one to you. But none of you seem to think that maybe, sometimes I need a hero, too.

Like my first year here. I had just lost my mother, was thrown into a world of Greek fantasies, and labeled as "the one". I didn't even know what that _meant_. I needed a _friend_. _Time_. A _hero_. But you all said I had to do it. So I did.

You don't understand, of course. You all have those special people you break down in front of and spill everything and let them solve your problems. But how could I do that? Everyone expects me to be a hero. Somehow, I give them courage. I can't fail them. So I shut away the part of me that wants (_needs_) to be myself and stand tall.

But now, I have survived 2 wars and defeated too many monsters to count and am starting to think that I can't do it anymore. I'm breaking down. I don't _want_ to do it anymore. I can't be _Percy Jackson_, the hero of Olympus and _Percy Jackson_, teenage boy at the same time. Only _Percy Jackson_, hero of Olympus or _Percy Jackson_, teenage boy. Only _or_. Always _or_.

I want you to realize something: I can't _always_ be the hero.

But you need me now, so I squeeze the growing part of me that is _Percy Jackson_, teenage boy into a tiny corner, and head out to help you and be _Percy Jackson_, hero of Olympus. Like I always am for you. Like I always will be. Until I crack, anyways.


	2. Deprived

Drew Tanaka, the jerk of the Aphrodite Cabin. Right? I was once nice. I was once had a _heart_. But then, someone stepped in and crushed it and ground it into a million pieces. So I spent forever searching the ground for the pieces and twice as long piecing it back together. And then I erected a stone wall around it so I would never be hurt again. And maybe that was wrong, but it was better than other things.

So when I came to camp, I made sure that others wouldn't have to feel the pain I did and started the ritual after Selina died. She was amazing, but I wasn't her. So I made others do what I said, and who cares if it annoyed them or if they hated me for it? I was safe, and it's not like I made them do anything _too_ horrible.

I was starting to let down my barriers after a while, but then she waltzed in. She was Piper McLean. Everyone loved her. Why wouldn't they? She was "sweet" and "pretty" and "a poor, poor, dearie!" with her "Oh, poor me! I'm the daughter of a famous guy, so I _steal_ things for attention!" act. Everyone else fell for it. Everyone but me.

I was so excited on my 6th birthday. There was a little box on the table, just for me! _Maybe it would all stop. Maybe all the abuse is finally going to go away!_ I ripped it open, and my heart sank. Makeup. And a hastily written note. "To cover up the scars," it said. It was my only present. Ever.

I could have cut myself, or abused others, or committed suicide, but didn't. I stayed strong. An ice princess maybe, but warm, sweet, and utterly innocent once you melted away that layer of frozen emotion. Piper could've had anything if she just asked. But she stole instead. She stole, and ran away, and she was loved because of it. She got the love, she got the guy, but she didn't get the genuinity. She may be nice, and pretty, and pitiable on the outside, but she was stone cold on the inside.

We both just wanted love. And people say that Piper and I are different. We're not, really. Just backwards. And someday, my warmth will break free, and she will be show her beastly beauty, and we'll see who's so wrong then.


	3. Faking

A demigod trudges through the barrier. His hair is covered with leaves and sticks. His clothes are torn and caked with mud. At a closer look, I realize it's Percy Jackson, coming back from another quest. He's walking towards the Big House. Towards me. I pull my mask on.

"Ugh. You made it back Peter Johnson. Go report to Chiron and spare me the details."  
_Thank Gods you made it back, Percy Jackson! How did it go? Are you alright?_

He walks off.

I sigh. I dread next week, when my "punishment" ends. After the war against Gaia, my "punishment" was reduced to a month. I make the official announcement for the party tonight.

"Attention, brats!"  
_Can I get your attention please, children?"_

"I leave in a week! At last my punishment is over!"  
_I'm leaving. I'll miss you, and am sure to wind up back here somehow, I promise._

The cheers are deafening. My heart shatters, and I want to drown in the noise. They won't miss me. Of course not. I haven't done anything for them. Or so they think. It's what I want, anyways.

I settle down on my bed. Droplets pool in my vibrant violet irises, dripping slowly down my face, and my eyes close (whether to push them them out faster or blink them away, I muse)

"M-Mr. D? Are you alright?" I am startled, and realize I have been sniffling. Furiously wiping my face, I reply.

"Uh, yes, fine. Just fine. Why wouldn't I be? I leave tom-morrow." My voice cracks at the last word, and tears spring back. The door creaks open hesitantly after a pause, and a young boy sneaks in. His arms sneak around me and envelop me in a hug. My posture is rigid for a moment, then I relax into the hug. Soon, he lets go, and his mop of black hair lays on my shoulder.

"It's okay, you know." I jump, startled at the sound of his voice after such a long pause.  
"What?

"You'll miss us. Isn't that why you're crying, sir?" His green pupils are trained on me.

"N-no! They were tears of joy!" I defend myself. He smiles amusedly.

"Sure. And you helped me in my third quest... why?" I stay silent. His smile fades off with his next sentences.

"Sir, I may be an idiot, but I know my mythology well enough. You are the only Olympian to be originally a demigod, yes?" I nod tentatively.

"So you know about our troubles and issues. And you want to help us." I stay silent, and he takes this as consent. He's right, but I don't need him to know it.

"But you're afraid of losing us. So you distance yourself, and we end up hating you, when in fact we should love you as much, if not more than the other Olympians."

"You certainly know quite a bit for someone with no ghosts." I joke. He smiles again. We lapse into a comfortable silence. !0 minutes later he speaks again.

"I never did report, you know. While I'm here, could I report to you?" A grin breaks out on my face and I nod eagerly. He launches into a detailed description of his mission, and for the first time in what may as well be forever, a peace and contentedness settles over my heart.


End file.
